


don’t you leave me lonely now

by atlantisairlock



Category: Charlie's Angels (2019), Charlie's Angels (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Happy Ending, Missing Scene, Not Really Character Death, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21583147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlantisairlock/pseuds/atlantisairlock
Summary: Elena spends hours thinking she saw Bosley die in front of her. It's a lot to take in when she finds out she didn't.
Relationships: Elena Houghlin/Rebekah Bosley
Comments: 9
Kudos: 165





	don’t you leave me lonely now

**Author's Note:**

> for my discord pals **ura_nium** , **milestowrite** and **astrxd** \- y'all know DAMN WELL WHY. also for **akaseru** and **diaboros** who both wanted to see more elena x rebekah because y'all have TASTE that is that on that. we deserve more elena x rebekah + jane x rebekah thx. 
> 
> title from 'hotel ceiling' by rixton.

Edgar’s the first one she ever meets, Jane’s the one who leaps into their getaway car and launches a full-on gunfight against Hodak, and Sabina’s the one who gives her and Jane their moment to escape the river when she sends a motorbike flying into him and knocking him off his feet - but when Bosley roars up in an Agency car and says ‘Charlie sends love’, she’s the first one to really catch Elena’s eye.

It’s weird. She’s the one that makes Elena feel safe - the voice in her ear when they infiltrate Brock Industries, the comforting presence in the background, their eye in the sky, as it were. Jane and Sabina are impressive and welcoming and incredibly intimidating, but Bosley’s the one Elena looks at and thinks, _I want to be right here._

And she feels a little stupid for it, as the week progresses, in between getting her bracelet in Berlin and taking flight after flight and dodging people shooting at her. She doesn’t have any illusions about the fact that she’s here, with them, because they need her for this one specific mission. Without her, Fleming and whoever the hell he’s going to sell to can’t make Calisto work for them - but neither can the Angels. After all this settles down, they’ll probably make her sign an NDA, on pain of death, and then send her packing back into her normal, boring life with Krav Maga on Sundays and nothing more. She can’t hope to stay, let alone stay _with her._ And it’s only been a week.

Not that it changes the way her heart starts to skip when Bosley touches her shoulder and asks if she’s ready, and she swallows hard and says _yes._

Hours after the three of them just barely make it out of the quarry alive, with Elena still shaking off the vestiges of whatever she tranq’d herself with, Sabina stands in the middle of their hotel and tells them she thinks Bosley left them there for dead.

“She’s one of us,” Jane says in defense, but Elena can hear the wavering doubt in her voice. She looks away - it feels like a conversation between Angels, not really for her ears, but the ache settles beneath her ribcage. Every cell in her body screams in protest, refusing to believe that Bosley could turn traitor - but what would she know? Jane and Sabina have been a part of this world for months, years, and all she’s had is one week. How can she dare to say she knows Bosley at all?

But it still sits, unrelenting, that unwillingness to just accept that conclusion. It stays, even as the phone rings and Elena goes to pick it up and an unfamiliar male voice says the words, so familiar - _Charlie sends love_ \- and then - _danger._

She doesn’t even manage to get a word out to Jane and Sabina when the world seems to crumble around her. The sheer force of the shockwave sends Elena flying, and for a moment there isn’t any pain, just an incessant ringing in her ears, her vision blurry, everything swimming in front of her eyes. She calls Jane and Sabina’s names, the sound of her voice distant even to herself, stumbling past the rubble to get outside. She doesn’t know where to go, what to do, and she can’t get up, she can’t -

_Elena! Stay down, stay down!_

It’s almost dreamlike, the voice - Bosley’s voice. Elena turns her head and sees her, coming closer, gun in her hand. Even in the haze of being bombed off her feet, Elena sees the frantic fear in her expression, hears two shots go off. Not at her - behind her, though she can’t see who Bosley’s shooting at.

When she thinks back later, she’ll realise that her subconscious already knew, in that moment, that Sabina was wrong - that Bosley was always trying to protect them and keep them safe, her especially. But rationality isn’t exactly present right after one gets blown up, and when another two shots ring out and Elena sees Bosley fall before her, suddenly everything goes blank. Bosley lies still on the tarmac, the gun knocked out of her hand, silent and unmoving, and Elena goes cold.

 _Bosley,_ she tries to say, but it’s like the shock and terror of the moment steals her voice. With the shred of strength she has left she tries to reach out, desperation setting in, but someone else catches her hand and pulls her to her feet, and before she can protest, she’s being dragged away into the night. “To safety,” says the man - presumably the one who warned them that they were in danger. “Quickly!”

Something screams inside her to fight back, to push him away. To run back to where Bosley lies and call for help, do something, anything. But all she can do is watch, frozen, as she gets further and further away.

The suspicion is already off the charts when she gets bundled into an unfamiliar mansion, and when this Bosley opens the door and reveals Hodak, wearing that cold, unfeeling smirk of his, it sinks like a stone in her stomach.

They leave her alone, trapped in her gilded cage, with God knows what planned for her, and Elena curls up on a chair and thinks of Jane, and Sabina, and Bosley - _her_ Bosley. It imprints itself on the inside of her eyelids - the image of her lying on the ground, probably bleeding out, knowing she couldn’t stop Elena from being taken. Elena feels tears springing to her eyes and she takes a deep, deliberate breath, blinking them away and trying to keep calm.

Bosley died for this. Died for _her._ And she doesn’t know if Jane and Sabina are alive, either. For all means and purposes, she’s standing alone against this Bosley and Hodak and whatever other minions they might have, ready to weaponise Calisto against innocent people.

She knows she doesn’t stand a chance. She’s no Angel. She’s just a civilian, a programmer who worked her way up with hard work and tenacity and always just wanted to help improve the world. She has no training and barely any experience.

But she’s also been watching Jane and Sabina and Bosley work for a week. Putting themselves in danger, taking the risks, for the greater good. And Elena knows her history, knows the world around her. Sometimes it just takes one person to stand against evil and say _no._

She might die today, but Calisto’s potential for warfare will die with her. She will go down fighting for that or she will die trying. If Bosley could do that for her, so will she, and hopefully, that will be enough.

She ends up in Brock’s office being asked to choose between her life and thousands of innocents, and sticks to her guns.

But then John reveals Langston, bound and gagged in Brock’s closet, and that plan changes radically in the space of a second. She can sacrifice herself, but she can’t sacrifice him. That was the whole point of being willing to die and let Calisto’s power die with her - to keep other people safe. One person is already dead because of a choice she made. No way in hell is she going to let that happen again.

The thing about her that John - and Fleming and Hodak and Brock and what feels like literally every person in her life except Jane, Sabina and Bosley - doesn’t realise is this - he has no fucking idea what she is truly capable of. Her mind is already working out another plan when she pretends to surrender and agrees to transfer root access to John. It’s not the easiest thing in the world, and up until he and Brock leave the room she’s quietly terrified that he’ll realise what she’s doing, but she didn’t graduate top of her class at MIT for nothing.

She needed root access to fix Calisto and make sure it couldn’t be weaponised. John hands that to her on a platter without even realising it, and in five minutes she’s ensured that all he can do is make the prototype light up and make pretty sounds. He falls for it, hook, line and sinker, and once he and Brock exit, she’s already racing to figure out how to get out. No real danger of getting hit by an EMP, but still - Langston probably needs some medical attention, and why be here when John finally realises she didn’t actually give him what he wanted?

She’s still looking for a key when Sabina basically rams the door open, face lighting up at the sight of her. Sheer relief floods her every nerve ending, and Elena runs forward to throw her arms around her. “Oh my god, you’re alive!”

“Yeah, lucky me, it was a really close shave. Now I really need you to get out of here, we need to get to the lobby right now, I’ll explain later.” She pauses and realises Langston’s presence. “What is your nerd gummy bear colleague doing here?”

“John kidnapped him to use him as leverage against me,” Elena says, and then realises Sabina might not know who that is or what that means. “I need to tell you what happ - “

Sabina waves that away, already rushing her out of the room. “Later, we need to move. Nerd boy, stay in here, do not go anywhere, we will come back and get you out when everything is settled. Stay!” She doesn’t even give Langston a chance to respond before she’s dragging Elena out of the room and shutting the door on him, and then they’re running down hallways and staircases Elena can barely catch her breath, let alone ask Sabina how she made it out and where Jane is and what the fuck is going on.

All she knows is that they’re almost into the lobby, and there’s this circle of scary-looking people in suits, all holding guns, and then everything goes black. Sabina shoves her forward and murmurs _be ready_ in her ear and Elena puts up her hands, instinctively, and when the lights come back on she’s in the circle and Bosley’s in front of her, on the ground, pretty definitively alive, and Elena’s breath catches in her throat.

Behind her there’s a sudden thud and crash, and then the circle of guards starts collapsing, all going to the ground unconscious, but Elena only has eyes for Bosley. Her breath gets shallower, faster, her heart racing, because she doesn’t understand. She watched Bosley get shot. She watched her fall, she saw her _die,_ and now she’s here in Brock’s mansion and Elena isn’t sure if she’s hallucinating.

All the guards end up on the floor and Bosley gets on her feet, facing John, starting on a pretty impressive speech, and proceeds to get summarily interrupted by Sabina punching him in the face. Jane is watching that play out with a pleased smirk and okay, this is real. She’s not hallucinating, this is real life. She’s here, Bosley’s alive, they won.

Bosley is alive.

She’s still standing, frozen, when Bosley gets the other Angels to start cleaning up, then makes the offer. “Want to come to California and train to be an Angel?”

And of course she’s taken aback, of course she can’t believe they’re recruiting her, of course she says _yes_ \- but the very first thing that hits her, the very first thing she wants to say in response, when Bosley says that, is - _I want you._

More than becoming an Angel. More than doing good, doing the right thing - that’s what she wants. Who she wants. It all comes back to her.

They get put up in a hotel for one more night to rest and recuperate before flying back to California for debriefing and all that and for Elena to start her induction process. Some food in her system, a much-needed shower and a quick once-over from Jane making sure she didn’t suffer any major injuries in the explosion, and it all starts hitting Elena at once. She ends up sitting on her bed in the suite, arms around her knees, the events of the past week reeling in her mind.

Just a few hours ago she thought she’d watched Bosley die in front of her eyes and was trapped in Brock’s mansion with an axe hanging over her head and she’d compartmentalised and focused on maintaining the courage and will to either find a way to get out of there alone or to die for the greater good. Now it’s late and she’s safe and Bosley is just across the hall, also safe, also alive, not a traitor, and everything’s going to be okay.

She doesn’t even realise she’s crying until she stumbles into Bosley’s unlocked room and to her bed, where she’s apparently nodded off while starting a mission report on her tablet. Elena inhales a long, shuddering breath and tries in vain to stop her very noisy sobbing, which naturally wakes Bosley up. It takes her a second to come back to herself, with just a sleepy murmur at first. “Elena?”

God, she didn’t think she’d ever get to hear Bosley say her name again - say _anything_ again, because she thought she _died._ Another choked sob pushes past Elena’s lips and Bosley snaps to full wakefulness, looking alarmed. “Shit - Elena? Elena?” She shoves the covers off her and puts the tablet to the side, hands on Elena’s shoulders. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong? What happened?” She lifts one hand to cup Elena’s cheek, and the warm weight of it, her steady pulse, makes Elena want to cry harder. “Elena, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Her voice dips lower, shifting from alarm to concern. “Baby, it’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

It all roils and roils in Elena’s chest, all the stress and trauma spilling over, and Elena goes for anger, the easiest thing to understand right now. She shoves Bosley with the heels of her hands, barely making any impact. “I thought you were fucking _dead,”_ she shouts. “None of this is _okay!_ I thought I saw you fucking die in front of me after I got blown up! I was kidnapped by that fucking creep and trapped in Brock’s fucking mansion and I thought you’d died and I was going to die too. _None_ of that is okay!”

Even through her tears Elena sees Bosley’s expression soften, vulnerable and open, full of guilt. “I know,” she whispers, and it sounds pained. “I thought I was dead too. When I saw him take you, I…” She breaks off, inhaling, a little tremulous. “I’m here, I’m right here.” She presses her forehead against Elena’s, lets Elena put her arms around her and cling tight, not letting go, until her sobs begin to quieten. She runs her fingers through Elena’s hair, and when Elena finally looks back up she brushes a kiss against her forehead, and then, after a moment of questioning hesitation, leans in to kiss her on the mouth too, just the softest, briefest touch. “I’m so sorry.”

“Please don’t die on me,” Elena murmurs, pleadingly. She doesn’t want to sound like a stupid whiny child, but right now, safe in Bosley’s embrace and feeling her chest rise and fall, she can’t imagine what it would have been like to end this whole shitshow without her here. If they’d won, but they’d lost her in the process. If she’d lost everything that really matters to her.

“I won’t,” says Bosley, quiet, like a promise. She reaches for a tissue and gently cleans Elena’s face, wiping the tears away. “I’m right here. I’m always going to be here. For as long as you want me to be.”

Elena nods, sighing shakily, resting her cheek against Bosley’s shoulder and letting her stroke her back, slow easy movements. Bosley turns her head to kiss her temple. “Come on, we should get some sleep. Long flight to California tomorrow.”

Elena doesn’t let go, because there's no way she's leaving Bosley's side for the rest of the night. “Let me stay with you.”

It’s only when Bosley nods and pulls the covers over both of them that she relaxes, but stays pressed close enough that there’s no breathing space between them. She closes her eyes, lets Bosley turn off the lights and rest her arm around her waist, her breathing slowly easing to a steady rhythm.

Tomorrow, they go to California, and her whole life changes. She doesn’t know what’s in store, just that she’s ready for it - no matter how tough the going gets, which she’s pretty sure it will be. And she wants that, and she’ll do whatever it takes to earn that tattoo on her skin. It’ll be hard and exhausting and push her to her very limits. But that’s tomorrow. Right now she’s got her arms around Bosley, safe in the promise of something new, something real, and she can go to sleep holding on to it for a little bit longer.


End file.
